


How To Be Classy, and Other Sucker's Games

by pearl_o



Category: Canadian Actor RPF, Grey's Anatomy RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-17
Updated: 2007-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2005, and Callum is old-yet-hot, Katie has a magnificent rack, and Sandra Oh knows all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Be Classy, and Other Sucker's Games

**Author's Note:**

> For Jane. Thanks to Fox for beta.

This is one of the first things Katie learned about Sandra: she always has the hook-up to the good booze.  

So it's really not Katie's fault that she's been drinking a little more than she ought to at the party.  Not at all.  It's Sandra's fault for being such a good hostess.  And maybe T.R.'s fault for obeying her every time she tells him to go refill her glass.

Katie doesn't know half the people at the party -- "I think those are Sandra's _Canadian_ friends," she whispered to T.R. earlier and he went "Ooooooh" in an appropriately fake-impressed voice -- but she's having a good time anyway.  She and T.R. have staked out the big comfy couch as their own property, curling up together, snuggling and drinking and eating hors d'oeuvres and gossiping about everybody.  Ellen joined them for a little while, but she left early, after some loud blow-up with her boyfriend.  Sandra swings over toward them and makes fun of them for being antisocial before she disappears again to talk to someone else.

Right now they're playing the What About Him? game.  It's Katie's turn to pick someone out, so she's scoping the room.

"Blond guy, corner, water bottle."  She pokes T.R. in the arm.  "Eight o'clock."

T.R. sits up a little -- it's hard when Katie's pretty much sitting on his lap -- and squints in that directions.  He muses for a second and then says, "Old."

"Yeah, but not old-old."

"Yeah.  Rugged old, maybe."

"Like eighties Harrison Ford," Katie says.  "Still kinda hot."

"Hmm.  Yeah, I guess."  T.R. nods.  "I'd do him."

"Me too."

"Ugh, wait," says T.R., "look, he's pulling out a pack of cigarettes.  He's a smoker."

They watch the guy walk to the doors and let himself out on the patio, where Sandra's set up all the ashtrays for the tobacco pariahs.

"So?" says Katie.  "I smoke."

"I wouldn't do you, either," T.R. points out, nudging her shoulder with his head.

Katie snorts and says, "Yeah, I'm sure that's the only reason."  

It's T.R.'s turn next, and they move on to a really pretty dark-skinned guy in a pinstripe suit.  T.R. thinks he looks like a user, the arrogant kind, who'd be really lousy in bed.  Katie mostly agrees, but she has to point out again how pretty he is.

So, in the ordinary run of things, that would be that.  They've played the game a hundred times before and they'll play it a hundred times again; it's just a stupid fun way for them to pass time.  Katie's pretty much forgotten about it by the time a half hour's gone by.  T.R.'s left the couch to fetch her another drink ("Something pink this time!" she ordered.  "And sparkly!"  "I'm not going to let you drink something that _sparkles_," T.R. said, but he got up to get it anyway).  Katie's sitting by herself, waiting, people-watching, when a guy comes over and sits on the overstuffed armchair nearby.

They make eye contact and smile at each other in that polite but not engaging way.  The guy says, "You're on Sandra's new show, right?"

"Oh," Katie says, "yeah!  I'm Katie."  She leans forward and he does, too.  They shake hands.  The guy's grip is firm and solid, long-fingered, a little callused and rough.

"I'm Callum," he says.

"Nice to meet you."

This is the point when Katie realizes that it's the blond guy from earlier, the smoker carrying around the bottled water.  It's also when she realizes he looks vaguely familiar.  If he's an actor, she's seen him in _something_, even if she can't think of what.

They start chatting, just average stupid small talk stuff, but Katie's having a good time.  Callum turns out to be a smart guy, plus he's even better looking up close, especially when he smiles.  He's quiet but intense.

After a minute or two she sees T.R. approaching from behind Callum's chair, and she looks up and catches his eye.

Katie will swear to the day she dies that she most definitely did not give T.R. any sort of special signal at that moment, let alone the _stay away, possible nookie at hand!!!_ code.  But T.R. sees something, anyway, something that he interprets by looking from her to Callum, widening both eyes, and giving Katie a big a-ok sign with the hand that's not holding a big fruity drink.  And then he disappears.

Katie's eyes must give something away then, because Callum notices.  He glances behind his head before giving her a quick smile.  "Looking for your friend?"

"Oh," says Katie, "yeah, no, I mean.  He's not my boyfriend or anything like that.  We're not together.  I mean, if you thought that."

The tendency to babble is not on Katie's list of her top ten favorite things about herself.

Callum ducks his head a little, still smiling.  "No, I didn't think you were.  Queer boys and their girls have a pretty distinctive aura about them."

Something about the way he says that would make Katie think that he has experience being part of the fag/fag-hag relationship himself.  If it wasn't for how smoothly he was flirting with her.

Callum says, "Hey, you wanna go talk somewhere a little more quiet?"

* * *

Katie was not born yesterday.  It does not, thus, come as an utter shock to her when Callum's "somewhere quiet" turns out to be "a really small room with a door that locks."

"The bathroom!" Katie exclaims as he closes the door behind them.  She turns around to take in the full ambiance of the decor, nodding as she comes back to face him.  "Very nice!  Very smooth choice.  I'm impressed."

"I thought it had a certain charm," Callum says.  He sits down on the closed toilet seat lid and stretches out his legs all the way in front of him.  Long legs, Katie notices: he's wearing jeans, cowboy style, and his legs just keep going.

Katie leans back against the counter.  "So what exactly where you thinking we could talk about?"

Callum's smile is crooked when he looks up at her.  "I don't know.  How do you feel about golf?"

That was in no way what Katie was expecting him to say; it makes her laugh out loud.  "I've got a better idea, okay?"

"Okay," Callum says, and he pulls her in as she climbs over to straddle his lap.

Katie likes kissing.  Katie likes kissing a lot.  And Callum is a really, really good kisser.  And if he's a little handsy, it's not like Katie has any objections to that at this point.  None at all.

He's got both hands up her sweater remarkably fast, unclasping her bra with a practiced move, and he breaks the kiss as her breasts fall out from their slack cups.  "You," he says, "have gorgeous tits, do you know that?"

His breath is hot against her face, and his fingers are cool and nimble as they play with her boobs, weighing the heaviness with both hands, gently starting to play with the nipples.  "Uh.  Thanks?" Katie says breathlessly.

"Fabulous," Callum says, and his voice is so dark and hoarse that Katie moans and rubs down against him.  She grabs his head with both hands and brings their mouths back together.

Callum moves his hands from her boobs to her butt, and he stands them up in one smooth move.  Katie wouldn't have expected it -- she's not a tiny girl, and he's not a huge guy -- but he's got all her weight supported, and she wraps her legs around him as he pushes her against the wall.

Katie is pretty sure she loses track of time here.  She is glued to a guy she doesn't even know, making out in the bathroom at a party, and it's the hottest thing that has happened to her in _years_.  They're grinding against each other, kissing and necking and touching, and every time Callum moves a certain way, her head bangs against the wall. It doesn't hurt -- she doesn't even feel it -- but she can hear them.

She thinks she's just about gotten to the point of _I'm kind of drunk_ and _Exactly how far do I want this to go?_ and _Shit, do I even *have* a condom with me if I wanted to?_ and _Wait, self, no freaking way you're having sex in the bathroom with some guy_ when someone knocks on the door and shouts loudly, "Hey, assholes!  Some of us have to pee!"

Callum and Katie both stop what they're doing at the same instant; they end up looking in each other's faces.  Katie can't help bursting into laughter, and she's got Callum snickering too as he helps her get her feet back on the ground, standing on her own.  

She fastens her bra back behind her, and Callum buttons his shirt back up, and they both brush each other off a bit, a little more normal looking.  

"Nice meeting you," Callum says.  He looks wicked.  "I guess I'll be seeing you around."

"I guess," Katie says.  Callum kisses her cheek before he unlocks the door and lets them out.

T.R. is waiting back at the couch when Katie wanders back in.  He raises her eyebrows at her.  She nods.  He golf-claps.  She hits him in the shoulder as she sits down beside him again.

"Do I get details?" says T.R.

"Give me my sparkly pink drink and we'll see," says Katie.

* * *

It's a couple weeks later, on set in between scenes.  Katie's going over the last take in her mind when Sandra turns to her, totally smirking, and says, "So you and Cal hooked up at my house."

It takes Katie a second to process.  Then: "What?" says Katie.  "He told you that?"

Sandra just rolls her eyes.  "God, Katie.  I'm all-knowing, all-seeing."

"Shut up."

"I'm surprised, actually," Sandra continues, still smiling to herself.  "I would never have put you two together."

"Oh my god, seriously, it was a couple of kisses in the bathroom.  It's not a big deal!"  Katie pauses.  "Wait, why not?"

"Well, you're not that compatible, I suppose.  For one thing, you're both complete bottoms."

Katie is dumbstruck for about thirty seconds before she says, "I cannot believe you just said that."

"Why not?"

Katie has no better answer than, "Because!"

Sandra says, "You're waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet.  It's ... cute."  

The little pause between the last two words is a little suspicious.  "I'm not waiting for anything.  I _have _been swept off my feet.  So there."  She's meeting Josh after she gets off set, even though it's going to be late and she's going to be exhausted and look like shit after the long day.  She doesn't care.

"Oh, hey, that's great!" Sandra says, sounding sincerely happy for her.  "I didn't know you guys were getting serious."

Katie shrugs, unable to stop from smiling just thinking about it, and they're both quiet for a bit.  She manages to wait a full two more minutes before she cracks.

"What do you mean about him being a bottom, anyway?"

Sandra raises her eyebrows and just says, "Callum just needs a strong hand.  Remind me to tell you about our Genie Awards and the tub of Vaseline some time."

Katie says, "Oh my god, you are _dirty_," and Sandra laughs and walks away.


End file.
